Pairings: Foreman/Cuddy/Cameron, House/Wilson/Chase, Cuddy/Cameron, a few others implied
Notes: For foreman_fest. Pure crack. Pure, metarific crack. Bonus points for spotting the Star Wars reference. Set towards the end of the third season, before Foreman decides to resign.
Summary: Foreman is no one's token black guy. That doesn't mean he never feels left out.
Part the First: In which bisexuals do not exist.
"I called Cuddy. She's on her way up."
These were the words that greeted him the moment he stepped into the diagnostics lounge. Cameron was standing at the table, hands on hips.
"She should do something about this."
"Good morning to you, too. Do something about what" he asked, even though he knew he shouldn't. He almost certainly wouldn't want to know.
Turns out, he didn't: "What do you mean 'about what'? That." She turned and flung her arm in the direction of House's office.
He looked, and immediately wished he hadn't. 'That' was, in fact, House, Wilson and Chase.
"They woke up gay today," Cameron filled the stunned, horrified silence.
"Oh," he said, "You've got to be kidding me."
"I know. They didn't even bother closing the blinds."
"Typical," he muttered. "This is just typical."
Cameron, still under the impression he was talking to her, said, "Yeah. I mean, it's really inconsiderate, isn't it?"
"No," he said, exasperated, "I mean..."
But what did he mean?
Because although it was typical, that apparently today was Throw Off a Lifetime of Heterosexuality Day and once again he hadn't gotten the memo, what he couldn't put his finger on was why that bothered him so much.
(Cut to: Gimmicky Flashback Scene)
Foreman quickly caught on to how things worked in the diagnostics department.
Difficult not to, considering the entrance House made when he finally showed up, four hours into Foreman's first day on the job:
The door swung open and he lurched into the room. Foreman got to his feet to greet him, shake hands, the usual - only to be completely ignored. Instead, House came up behind Cameron and Chase, who remained seated at the table, put a hand on each of their shoulders and said, very seriously, "We're going to have to change our theme song. 'Whiter Shade of Pale' just isn't going to cut it anymore."
"Sorry," Chase said, wincing as House moved away looking pleased with himself. "He's a real -"
"He's in pain," Cameron jumped in. "It makes him lash out at people."
To which Chase rolled his eyes. "More like he's messing with you to see how you'll react."
"And I guess reporting him for being a racist asshole would be like letting him win," Foreman said. Then shrugged. "Okay."
Nothing had really prepared him for dealing with this sort of thing, however.
"So they just..." he gestured vaguely. He couldn't tear his eyes away. It was like a ghastly, naked train wreck.
"Woke up gay." Cameron shrugged, though she still seemed a little put out. "I guess it happens."
"Not to me!"
Cameron glanced over at him. "Okay."
Which was irritating, so then he shrugged and said, "House and Wilson, though - not like we didn't see that coming."
Cameron opened her mouth as if to protest. Then she deflated slightly and muttered, "People can be bisexual."
"Pfft," he scoffed, "No they can't."
Part the Second: In which everything is Cameron's fault.
It all started with Cameron.
(Cut to: Another Gimmicky Flashback Scene)
A month working for the guy, and Foreman was still impressed by his employer's ability to cough 'affirmative action'.
We're talking a lot of syllables there.
But: "You didn't hire me because I'm black," he told House, unfazed because he had, after all, been working for the guy for a month. "You hired me because you're a jerk."
House did not disagree. Even though he'd actually hired Foreman because he was a criminal. The jerk thing still applied.
Foreman was there for one thing, and one thing only: his resume. Or, officially, if anyone asked, 'to learn'.
He wasn't anyone's token black guy.
But that didn't mean he never felt left out.
But back to Cameron, and why this was almost certainly all her fault.
(He didn't know why it felt so right to blame everything on Cameron - somehow it just did.)
She was the one who started off crushing on House, then sleeping with Chase - meanwhile never so much as looking twice at him. House made the predictable comments about her catching jungle fever next, of course, but she never did. It was only natural to feel a little excluded.
Not that he was interested in Cameron because, really, 'high maintenance' didn't even begin to cover it. But Cameron's standards couldn't exactly be considered high - Chase and House? Come on!
So yeah, it stung a little.
And he couldn't help but wonder whether she wasn't just a little bit racist, herself.
"You stabbed me with an infected needle!" she said when confronted about it.
He rolled his eyes. "House kicks puppies, and hates everyone - you like him."
"House never stabbed me, or stole my article -"
"Okay, you really need to get over that."
"I am over it."
"Like you're 'over' House?"
At which point Cameron went off to find Chase and drag him into a closet somewhere.
There was something almost Pavlovian about it.
But that was really only the beginning. So fine, Cameron wasn't racist, girl just really knew how to hold a grudge - pretty soon, he couldn't help noticing that it wasn't just Cameron at all.
It was everyone. They were all... doing each other. Or wanting to do each other.
All of them. Everyone but him.
It was the kind of thing a guy could get paranoid about. Or, at the very least, slightly insecure.
Case in point: Cameron and Chase were showing the class why shitting where you eat was a bad idea, meanwhile House was doing... something with Cuddy and Wilson.
Cuddy and Wilson who were also dating each other.
And there was the small matter of House making out with Cameron a few weeks ago - like she was going to let that go without comment.
And this was only what he had gathered through the usual means - the rumour mill, and having eyes in his head. As far as he knew, all five of them got together on weekends for massive orgies.
He decided to go to Chase. Chase seemed the least involved - only catching Cameron's scraps as far as he knew - and the most likely to talk.
But, "Don't know what you're on about," was the response.
"So nothing strange is going on."
Chase looked puzzled. "No."
But a moment later he was tugging his collar a little higher in what he seemed to think was a surreptitious manner. Foreman looked at him more closely.
"Dark circles under the eyes. Big weekend?" he asked.
Chase made that face where even he appeared to find his own stupidity surprising - Foreman thought of it as his 'regular face' - and mumbled something about noisy neighbours. Leaving Foreman with the distinct impression there was more going on than even he suspected.
Orgies. It would have been nice if they'd at least asked.
Frankly, he was developing a little grudge of his own. And now this. He had to deal with a three-white-guy pile-up next door first thing in the morning?
It was just not cool.
Part the Third: In which GOGA gets its day.
All that pale, pale skin... Foreman shuddered. Who wanted to see that?
He forced himself to look away, only to realise that Cuddy had arrived in the meantime. She was standing with Cameron, near identical expressions on their faces. They seemed a little put out by this change in circumstances.
Next door, Chase was looking really, really happy about it.
Not that Foreman was looking. He purposefully shifted his attention elsewhere.
The two women were, he noticed, viewing the scene very much like a pair of six year olds whose favourite toys had been taken away from them.
Cuddy was shaking her head. "The three of them together... It's like we don't even exist."
Cameron frowned. "I guess I'm just not used to it."
"Maybe it's an epidemic," Cuddy said with grim humour. "How are you feeling?"
He realised after a moment that she was addressing him.
"Me?" He laughed. Nervously. "Hell, no. If I wanted to look at a man's hairy ass during sex, I'd hang a mirror on my ceiling." He shook his head then, wincing as he glanced toward House's office again. "Oh for -" he put up a hand to shield his eyes. "At least in pornos they wax."
"Oh, I don't know," Cuddy mused after a while. "Maybe they have the right idea of it."
Cameron looked over at her with a small smile. "I was just thinking the same thing."
"Yeah right," he chuckled. Then he looked over and saw that the two women were standing a lot closer than they had been a moment ago. And by 'closer' he meant 'licking each others tonsils'. "Oh, not you two," he sputtered, starting to get annoyed. He threw his hands up in the air. "This job keeps getting worse all the time," he muttered.
Of course, this feeling was tempered slightly by the sight of two hot women making out right in front of him.
"Who needs them, anyway," Cuddy murmured against Cameron's hair as Cameron pulled the neck of her blouse aside and nibbled on her collarbone.
Cameron paused to send a glare over Cuddy's shoulder and through the glass. Foreman watched with increasing interest and Cuddy's hand travelled down her back and slid under her waistband. "Yeah," she agreed finally, tipping her head back so Cuddy could press a line of kisses down her throat. She frowned suddenly. "Well, except you do, apparently."
"Hmm?" Cuddy said, distracted. Her hand smoothed around Cameron's hip to her belly. Foreman tilted his head to get a better view.
"I mean, are you dating House or Wilson these days? Or can't you make up your mind."
The suddenly snarky tone stopped Cuddy cold. Foreman sighed. Things had just been getting good. The image of what was happening next door had almost been washed from his mind. Not quite though. Damnit, if they could just make out a little longer -
"What business is it of yours who I date?" Cuddy demanded, taking a full step back, their arms falling away from each other.
"Not that I'm even dating them - either of them."
"What do you call it, then? Hands-on administration?"
Cuddy through her arms up. "I went to one art exhibit!"
"Yeah, of erotic art."
"With Wilson. You don't even like Wilson."
"I don't not like Wilson." Cameron folded her arms over her chest. "He's great in bed. So I hear."
"Okay, you know who's great in bed?" Foreman exploded suddenly, drawing the immediate attention of the two squabbling women. "Me! I'm fucking amazing in bed. Do any of you know that? No. And why? I don't know! What? What is so wrong with me?"
He stood there, chest heaving. And they stared at him. Next door, even House's ears appeared to have pricked up. Not that it stopped him doing what he was doing to Wilson's stomach. And the less said about what Chase was occupied with, the better.
"Well, you're just..." Cuddy looked uncomfortably at Cameron.
"No. Well, you are, obviously. You really need to get over that."
Cuddy began again. "It's just that you're -"
"Pretentious," Cameron interjected. Cuddy jostled her and cleared her throat. Cameron rolled her eyes. "Fine. The reason none of us want to sleep with you is... You're just too well-adjusted."
Cuddy nodded her agreement.
Foreman blinked. Cuddy and Cameron blinked, too. The silence went on for a while, and nobody's eyeballs dried out.
Finally, Foreman decided to say something.
Part the Fourth: In which Foreman has issues. And sex.
"I mean, look at us," Cuddy said in an apparent attempt to placate him. "I'm forty years old and when I'm not working sixteen hours a day I'm internet dating and getting too involved with my patients. My most meaningful relationship is with House and most of the time he doesn't even like me."
"And I have a dead husband," Cameron contributed. Cuddy stared at her pointedly, until she rolled her eyes and continued, "And my most meaningful relationship is with House and most of the time he doesn't even like me."
"And as for those three," Cuddy indicated the Pile of Very White Men, as he was choosing to refer to it in his head (because 'heaving mass of man flesh' was just wrong, somehow), next door. "What issues don't they have?"
"Hey," he said finally, "I have issues."
Cameron shrugged. "Well yeah, there's your criminal youth, and your daddy issues - but who doesn't have daddy issues?"
"You two don't."
"Yes, we do," Cuddy assured him. "We just haven't gotten around to airing ours yet."
"Maybe next year," Cameron added. "Anyway, look, Eric." She reached out and put a hand on his arm. "You're not like the rest of us. You're not so messed up you have to resort to intricate sexual and romantic entanglements to fill the empty pit of your soul." She paused. "Or whatever."
"Anyway, Cameron and I are going to go find a supply closet. Why don't you do some work? That's why you're here, isn't it?"
Cameron shook her head. "You're so lucky, you don't even know it."
They were about to walk out.
No, they weren't. Because Foreman leaped towards the door and blocked their way, holding up his hands. "Hold on. I have issues. Serious issues. The most pressing of which being that I haven't gotten laid since I broke up with Wendy."
Cameron frowned. "You broke up with Wendy?"
"Who's Wendy?" Cuddy asked.
Foreman looked towards the ceiling. He really, really hated these people, sometimes. "Yes, I broke up with Wendy. For a really stupid reason, too."
"Oh?" Suddenly, it seemed, Cameron's interest was perked.
He grinned. "Yeah. I just couldn't love her."
"Oh," she said. Like a bloodhound catching a scent, he couldn't help but observe. "That's so sad."
"That's so stupid," was Cuddy's contribution. She was glaring at him. And at Cameron, who was now holding him. "What is the matter with you men? You're always coming up with these ridiculous reasons for why you don't want to sleep with us."
"'You want to fix me'," Cameron said, her cheek resting on his shoulder.
"'You're focused on House'. My bra was on the floor, how much more focused could I get?"
"'I want more'."
"'We're apparently gay today'."
The women were sounding more and more disgusted. Cameron had pulled away and was looking at him accusingly.
"Well?" she demanded.
He just shrugged. "I have issues."
The magic words. And they worked, appropriately, like a charm.
"You do have issues," Cuddy said. "Serious ones. You still want to sleep with us, though, right?"
He hesitated. So close. It could be a trick question. "Yes?"
She nodded. "Good." And turning to Cameron, said, "Where?"
"The beds in the sleep studies lab are really comfortable." Cameron paused, and carefully did not meet Cuddy's suddenly sharp gaze. "So I hear."
"You hear a lot of things," Cuddy said, narrowing her eyes.
"Let's go," said Foreman, herding them out the door before they remembered they'd been ready to claw each other's eyes out just moments earlier.
(Cut to: Gratuitous Topless Scene)
Wilson, he thought, as the girls made out some more and he began to get undressed. He wasn't sure about Wilson. Although, according to Cameron, he was good... Chase, he absolutely did not have to worry about, or else the universe just hated him even more than he sometimes suspected.
But then there was House. Now, House had to be pretty damn good in bed, Foreman reasoned. He was kind of old, ungroomed, with a terrible personality - there had to be some reason women, well, people, were always all over him.
Toeing off his shoes, he worked on his buttons and couldn't help wondering how he was going to stack up.
"What are you thinking?" Cameron asked him then, as her hand smoothed down his bare chest. She had a little bare chest going on herself, and he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed that already.
Still, 'I'm thinking about how attractive House is' wasn't the greatest answer, so he just reached for her instead.
She sighed when he covered her breasts with his palms. Meanwhile Cuddy had plastered herself against him and was mouthing the side of his neck. She shifted a little and he could feel her nipples rubbing against his back.
He was in every straight man's fantasy.
House, Wilson and Chase - did they know what they were missing? If so, they had to be fucking crazy. No matter how hot and/or stallion-like any of them were.
And now if he could just stop thinking about that, he might even be able to enjoy himself.
Just then, Cuddy reached around and stuck her hand down his pants. That helped.
(Fade to Black)
Part the Fifth: In which House is right again.
Much later, he rolled over onto his back with a wide smile on his face and the feeling that all that had once been wrong with the world had finally been put right.
Really, really right. Really. It was amazing what a difference a three-way could make. His grin got just a little wider as he thought of one particularly memorable moment with Cuddy's mouth on his nipples and Cameron's mouth someplace much lower...
He must have dozed off for a while, which was only understandable because although this was the quintessential straight male fantasy - meaning he was, naturally, able to get it up three times in the course of an hour - he was still a guy.
Awake now, he looked over at the two people who had done so much towards bringing him to this place of peace and goodwill.
They were... cuddling.
The type of cuddling that involved soft murmurings, long sloppy kisses and what could only be described as 'nuzzling'. The type of cuddling that only ever took place after really great sex. And, okay, he'd give them that.
He reached out to stroke one sleek hip. Cameron wriggled a little in response - away from him, he couldn't help but notice. Or maybe she was just snuggling closer to Cuddy, smiling as she burrowed her face against a chest which, all right, he had to admit, House's obsession with now seemed perfectly understandable.
"Mmm, that was amazing," Cameron purred.
"We really don't need them, do we?" Cuddy responded, stroking Cameron's hair before wrapping both arms around the woman's back and holding her tightly.
Oh, he realised, as he continued to watch.
Okay, he was starting to feel left out again.
And it was still Cameron's fault.